Far From Home
by Beware-the-Pessimist
Summary: The tale of the grandson of the famous explorer, Captain Olimar, as he does his best to get back home after he's become stranded on the planet Earth.
1. Chapter 1

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**Well, here's my first crack at a fanfiction. I'm writing this one in celebration of Pikmin 3, which will be the latest addition to this epic series. Comments are encouraged ^_^ Enjoy!**

***These chapters will start out being fairly short, but they'll probably get longer as the story progresses. I'm hoping to update this about once a week.**

**Disclaimer**: Obviously I don't own Pikmin and am creating this fanfiction purely for entertainment.

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**Chapter 1: A light in the Alley**

A rusted tin can lies on its side in a dark alley. The alley is littered with damp sheets of paper, soggy cardboard boxes, and scraps of food, and the sky above is pierced by tall buildings. The few stars that are visible shine brightly. Every so often, the silence is split by slick tires slicing through shallow puddles, spraying the curb with cold water. The sounds of the sleeping city echo through the deep alley, and moon above stains the buildings and streets a pale blue. The big city seems so bigger to the tin can, and even bigger to what's inside it.

The can rests still, despite the brisk night wind whispering through the alley. The label reading "Campbell's" in stained, cursive letters is beginning to peal, revealing a cold, unspectacular metal cylinder. From inside, a faint, white light pours onto the asphalt, reflecting off of the damp ground. The light wobbles and swoops, but does not fade. It is the sole evidence of life in the alleyway.

Out of the lingering darkness, a small, gloved hand clutches the edge of the can. A second one breaks the shadows, and the two red hands pull forth a small figure, no taller than the can. The two hands now brush off the figure's yellow, rubber jumpsuit, the chest of which is full of a myriad of buttons and controls, gauges and lights.

The figure finally lifts his head, and with two squinting eyes he stares out to the shining street, so far away. Messy brown hair almost obstructs the view, but the figure doesn't take his eyes off the sight. The weak light reflects off a round, glass helmet, and inside is a friendly, round face, still staring into the distance, thinking of nothing more than a very different world back home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2, A Golden Hope**

Clouds drooped lowly in the sky, and it seemed that the entire planet had finally gone to sleep. But the silence could not keep secret the soft puttering of tiny feet in the alley below.

The small figure trudged through the moist asphalt, his feet making small splashing sounds as he walked. He stopped at a cardboard box, ten times his size. Cautiously, the figure looked around, as though he was expecting a beast to leap from the shadows, beckoned forth by the light from his suit. Apparently seeing that the coast was clear, the figure peeled away the damp flaps of the box, revealing a magnificent sight.

Standing tall within the box was a spectacular ship, gleaming against the dim city air. Its sleek body nearly pierced the top of the box, and its exterior was a flawless beige, halted only by a large window resting near the top, encasing the cockpit. Silver jets sprouted out of the bottom, waiting to be alleviated from the pain of holding up the ship, and two jagged wings jutted out, on opposite sides from one another.

With a small, gloved hand, the figure felt the smooth hull of the ship, looking sadly to its nose. He took a deep breath and pressed his palm against the ship, sliding a small square of beige deeper into the ship. With a loud whooshing sound, the cockpit's window raised open and slid g against the top of the box. With a quick heave, the figure pulled himself into the cockpit and sat down on a welcoming pilot's seat. All around him were gauges, buttons, lights, knobs, switches, and screens, though none of them held their brilliant glow like they once had.

The figure leaned forward and flicked one of the gauges. A white light flickered into existence, revealing a quivering needle pointing to a red sliver on the display. Above, written in smooth, flowing letters, was a simple yet powerful word. _Fuel_. The light, along with its slim companion, soon faded away, allowing the night to seep into the cockpit once again.

The figure shook his head, and his eyes were left blank as he sat deeper into the chair. With his last burst of will, the figure leaned forward and typed a few keys onto a keyboard, which was conveniently hanging below the ships main monitor. With a _click_, the final key was typed in and the screen lit up, the light quivering just as the needle had. The dim light from the screen chased away the darkness, and the figure looked into it intently, guiding through the on-screen guides and options, finally settling on one: _Locate Nearest Fuel Supply_.

Devoid of hope, the figure hung his head as the computer searched, using the last of its reserve battery to complete its captain's request.

Memories of home, of family, of familiar sights and sounds filled his head. He smiled, for a brief moment, seeing the faces of parents and fiancé once again, but the smile curled back into a frown as a single tear slipped down his face.

_How can I depend on hope_, he thought, _when I can't even count on my ship to get back home? If only I could…_

His thought was interrupted by a faint beeping sound, struggling to be heard from the ship's computer. The figure looked up quickly, staring deeply into the screen. A small, red dot faded in and out, hovering on a digital map. The red dot indicated that what it was identifying was only a few feet away from the ship.

The figure stared into the screen, convinced that it was a lie, a dying wish to please its captain as its power faded away. As the beeping insisted, burrowing its way into the figure's head, he flung himself out of the cockpit and darted down the alley, making loud, quick splashing sounds all the way.


End file.
